University of Virginia Library


59

THE GREEN FIELDS TO AMERICA

The green fields to America make my heart sore,
The green fields to America that I have travelled o'er;
Oh, many and many a mile they stretch so wide and free,
The green fields to America betwixt my love and me!
There's a pretty bird, a birdeen grey, he swings on high,
Nor fears at all the pathless main, the trackless sky;

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Oh, if I had that birdeen's wings, 'tis I would take
The green fields from America, for my love's sake.
Oh, what to me were wastes of storm and miles of sea,
The compass in my heart points straight to my countree,
To where my love sits quietly beside the sands
Of the green fields to America with his head in his hands.
The little fields we once did roam were gold and green,
And here are but the washing waves and white foam between;
Above the little fields at home the hills are blue:
God bless the kindly fields at home, the fond love I knew.

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Now God and Mary strengthen me to take that way,
The green fields from America some lucky day,
And God and Mary bring me safe, to stray no more
From the little fields I knew of old and kind love of yore!